A Past beginning
by Jackalina
Summary: UPDATE! A/U season seven. A look at what might have happened if Carter and Abby hadn't made the choices they did in the past. Chapter 6 FINALLY up. Please R&R if only to tell me never to write again!
1. Conflicts

Chapter 1-Conflicts   
  
Pregnant?   
  
Impossible.   
  
Her mind was not capable at that point of constructing coherent thoughts as she moved between the various states of shock, from stunned and complete disbelief. Solitary words raced through her mind in a jumble of past and present thoughts and memories. She was reeling from the news; it wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. 

Her mother had made her entire childhood a living hell. She knew this was unintentional, but it taught her nevertheless that in any situation the best way to deal with things was simply to ignore your emotions. Emotions made things complicated; only logic could help. 

Across from her on the El there was a pregnant woman surrounded by four other small children. She was harried, flustered, and obviously very tired, but also incredibly happy. Next to that woman was a man who seemed bothered by the children and scolded constantly. He was obviously their father, and he appeared quite sick of the role. That was always the way: one story, two completely different views, and innocent children caught in the middle. 

The same was true with Richard and herself. He wouldn't want a child…but then again, more often than not it was she who had to reject her own feelings and opinions in order to appease him. Maybe it was time she did something she wanted! Of course that would mean she would have to deal with the child possibly being bi-polar… 

Or possibly even becoming bi-polar herself. 

Just then Abby saw a small dark object fly from the hands of one of the children. It arced, almost brushing the ceiling, and landed with a light thud on her lap. Pulling herself away from her thoughts she jumped slightly when she found the object to be a small rubber rat, She picked it up gingerly by the tail and handed it to the little boy, who blushed and smiled shyly as he murmured a "Thank-you" before seeking refuge in his mother's one free arm. 

As the train approached her stop Abby began to gather her many things: her purse, jacket, a bag of prenatal care items and the first ultra sound. The El lurched to a stop and the family across from her stood quickly, scrambling off the train ahead of her as though one unit. The woman stopped long enough to wish Abby "Congratulations and Good Luck!" Abby was confused at first until she realised that she was still clutching the ultrasound in her hand. She just had time to smile her thanks and share a look of understanding before the woman was swept away by her annoyed husband. Abby sighed, *That could be me in a few years time* she thought whistfully.

She tucked her things into her purse, pulled on her jacket, and headed home, silently debating with herself all the way.  
  
~~~

  
Abby spent the next few days deep in thought, weighing up her options, and at one point summoning the courage for an abortion…although she couldn't go through with it. Richard hadn't noticed anything, of course. He hadn't been home to notice anything. He said it was because of his internship, but Abby knew this was just his cover for screwing some girl who wasn't her…which was probably what he had wanted from the beginning. That night when he walked through the door after an evening with his latest conquest and collapsed on the couch, she decided it was time to confront him.  
  
"Richard?" she began, a little unsure of herself and what she was going to say.

  
"Yeah?" He didn't even look up from the newspaper he was reading. 

  
"Richard this is important. Could you please look at me?"

"I'm listening." 

  
"LOOK AT ME FOR GOD'S SAKE!" The force of her outburst shocked Abby, but Richard appeared to be unmoved. "Fine!" Abby stomped her heel angrily against the ground and drew in a deep breath before continuing. "I…I think we should, um…have a baby."

  
"Why would we want to have a baby?" Richard asked, still not lifting his eyes from the sports page of the newspaper. 

  
"Because…I'm pregnant," she said timidly, stepping back slightly. Even though she knew he was about as weak as they come, and that he couldn't do anything nearly as bad to her as she could to him, she still lived in fear that one day he might hit her. Another *wonderful* remnant of her warped upbringing.

  
This news finally got his attention and he looked up, although even then she could tell it wasn't too important to him. After an awkward moment he gave a short harsh laugh. "Funny," he said. "So really, what's going on?"

  
"I am," she insisted.

  
"You're gonna have an abortion right?" he asked as he tried to keep is voice level. One look in her eyes told him the answer to this question, and she could see the panic building in his face.   


"No."

  
"B-but we can't have a baby. " There was a slight edge of panic in his voice, but he still gave the impression that his opinion alone dictated her world.   


"Well, we are," she told him firmly, holding her shaking hands together to hide her nerves.

  
Abby sat down opposite Richard, and for a long time they just stared in silence. Richard's newspaper had slipped from his lap and was lying forgotten on the floor. After a moment he picked it up and looked calmly at Abby. "Fine," he said. She breathed a sigh of relief. "You're having a baby." With that he went back to his newspaper.   


"It's your baby as well," she said simply, silently imploring him to look at her and take a part in this new stage in their relationship. 

  
"Listen, Abby, I'm not ready for a child," he said in a reasonable voice, as if she were the child and he had to explain things to her. "We can't have a child and that's all there is to it. If you want to have a baby then fine-It's all you, have fun-just don't expect me to be happy about any of this."

  
She stared at him in disbelief. *Son of a Bitch!* She could handle most things with him: the whores she wasn't supposed to know about, his horrible family, his constant belittling of her in front of his friends. These were all things she could rationalise to herself. *This isn't so bad. It's better than being at home with your crazy mother. You don't deserve any better.* But how could he…no, how *dare* he reject their unborn child and act as though he was a better person for it. True she had already considered an abortion, had even gone as far as booking an appointment she never kept, nevertheless there was something unsettling about Richard's reaction. She could feel the tears starting to sting her eyes, and not wanting Richard to see this weakness in her she turned on her heel and fled to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

She flung herself onto the bed and allowed the unshed tears to flow freely for a few minutes before mentally chastising herself for being so weak. "Perhaps he was simply in shock," she said to herself…but that didn't mean she wouldn't be mad at him until the shock wore off.   
  
  
*******   
  
Vicodin, Morphine, and a bunch of other narcotics unreachable by normal people stood proudly before him in the unlocked cupboard. No one was around, and his supply of already rationed painkillers had long since vanished. It would be so easy if he were to just grab some, pretend he knew nothing about the missing meds, and finish his day with less pain in his body and soul. 

  
Lucy was dead, he had been stabbed, and it was all his fault. Of course some blame could be put on Paul Sobricki, the psycho who stabbed them both, but in reality he hadn't listened to Lucy and that was why she died. He had long since discovered that while on his meds he could be happy for Lucy, tell himself she had gone to 'a better place,' and for a while feel less terrible about his own actions in reference to the attack. This couldn't last forever, though. His prescription had soon run out, and the supply of narcotics he had built up was long gone as well, leaving him with a desperate need for more to dull the pain. Despite this need, however, he could hear a voice in his head telling him that it was horrible, dangerous, that he should resist the urge to grab what he could and run with all the strength he had left. 

  
Before he could decide what to do Carter saw a pair of eyes staring out from behind the shelves. He resisted the urge to jump in surprise and walked calmly towards them to see who they belonged to.   
"You shouldn't be back here," he firmly reprimanded the eyes, hoping it wasn't a fellow doctor. 

  
"I'm looking for my mom," came a quiet muffled voice. Moments later a little girl stepped out from behind the shelf. Carter placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her quickly into the hallway.

  
"Is she a patient here?" he asked, looking up and down the corridor to see if anybody was looking for a lost child. 

  
"No. But I don't know if she is actually down here…" she explained patiently.

  
"Did you lose her?" asked Carter, becoming increasingly confused.

  
"No. I just wanna find her," she answered in a small voice. She looked down and pushed the front of one tennis shoe into the back of the other. 

  
Carter knelt down so that he could look her in the eyes in an attempt to make their conversation somewhat more adult. "Well, I really can't help you unless you tell-" 

  
"GRACE!" 

  
The child whipped her head around, her long braids nearly smacking Carter. 

  
"I was just go-"   


"NO excuses! I told you: if you sneak out one more time we're going to have to take away your outing privileges," the woman said. Grace mouthed every word, looking bored and quite annoyed. This was obviously a speech she received on a fairly regular basis.

  
"I just wanted to see my mom," she retorted petulantly. "She was having such a bad morning and-" 

  
"You'll see your mom tonight. Thank you, Dr…?"

"Carter. John Carter." He stood and held out his hand, aiming to be polite but secretly planning on continuing his business when they had left.

"I'm Beth Johnson. I work up in the Day Care Center. Thank you for finding her for me. I swear this girl is driving me to distraction!" The woman took Grace's hand and led her to the elevator. Even though Grace didn't resist, Carter could tell that this strong willed child wanted to return, and probably would before the evening was over. He waited until they were out of sight, then judging the coast to be clear, he turned back to the medicine closet. 

  
"Damn!" he cursed. Weaver was now in the space, searching for something, which meant that he couldn't get anything. 

  
"Carter, I believe you have a patient in four with a bowel obstruction," Kerry said, not even turning to look at him. How did she do that? Did she have to sell her soul for that power? "Oh, and take Abby, she could use some more experience…" she added as she continued to search through the meds..   
  
~~~~~  
  
Carter was finally off. He still hadn't managed to get hold of any narcotics…but perhaps that was good. As he left he took one last longing glance at the cabinet. Drugs had turned his cousin Chase into a vegetable, but Carter didn't know if he could resist the urge. "In fact," he thought, "if it hadn't been for Grace, I would probably have something right now." 

He didn't know whether to thank the child or curse her, but either way he was tired, and his back was killing him.


	2. Resolutons

A/N

You will all be pleased to know that I FINALLY remembered to write a little note. I always forget! I have a note at the bottom to make up for the missed one. (I'm a freak). Anyway, big thanks to all.out.carby and Eve for reading and reviewing…and to all who had the courage to read it. BIG huge thanks to Em for the encouragement and the listening (by that I mean reading) whatever odd things I had to say. Not to mention…Without her, you would all have the story I was gonna start out with. You should all be thanking her (Just kidding). 

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Chapter 2-Resolutions   
  
Abby sat at one end of the small kitchen table, Richard sat at the other. Still angry about his reaction to her news Abby had found their conversations to be cold and aggravating.

  
Three months had gone by since she had told him she was pregnant, and for three months Richard had spent his time either at the hospital or out of the house. If he _did_ come home it was only to change clothes or grab a cheap breakfast, and when he came home they invariably fought.

  
"Why don't you want a baby?" she blurted out suddenly during one of their regular fights.

  
"Why _do_ you?" Richard countered. 

  
"Answer my question," she replied, ignoring his question but silently pleading with him to answer hers.

  
"It isn't that I don't want a baby," he started, "it's just…*we're* not ready." They both knew it had something to do with Abby's mother, but neither was willing to admit it.

  
"Well, it's happening," she said forcefully, her voice brooking no argument.

  
"I can see that," he replied flatly. "But you haven't thought this through, Abby. We aren't ready financially," he reasoned. "I just started my internship which doesn't exactly pay well as it is, I've got student loan repayments to make, there's the rent on this place, and if you're serious about starting med school in two years there'll be even _less_ money…" Richard continued to make excuses along these lines, but Abby stopped listening. They had this conversation every time Richard came home. He never changed what he said, and Abby didn't either

  
Richard noticed that Abby's gaze had started to wander and that she was no longer listening. He stopped talking and stood up from the table.

"Fine, you've already made your mind up so I don't really need to be here. You sit at home with your decision. I'm going out." As he spoke he had walked over to the hallway to put on his coat, and as he finished he had grabbed his keys from the hall table and walked out into the night, slamming the door behind him.

  
Abby wanted to laugh. 

*Surprise* 

This was the way it always ended. They had never finished a fight. One of them would always run away from the argument, usually Richard, and then return later that night or the next day only to begin fighting again. She got up from her chair quickly and ran over to the recently closed door, opening it and shouting after his retreating figure.

  
"It's because of Maggie isn't it?" she yelled out to him…but he didn't stop, turn, or in any way acknowledge that she had spoken to him. He just kept walking down the stairs of their apartment and out the main door. Abby watched him go and slowly closed the door, leaning against it sadly.

  
"Fine," she whispered to herself.  
  
~~~  
  
Later that night Abby lay in bed, trying to sleep, but her thoughts kept her up. Sure Richard was only an intern, but she had supported them whilst he was at med school on just her nurse's salary, so it was possible they could raise a kid on his salary. 

As she continued to make arguments to counter each of Richard's arguments, Abby began to wonder why. She knew, or at least she thought she knew the real reason for Richard not wanting to have children…at least not with her. She couldn't even say what it was that made her want to keep this baby anyway. Perhaps it _was_ too much for her to ask Richard to be a part of this. Maybe he was right. Maybe she _should_ have an abortion. There was still time. 

  
She hated herself. 

  
What little sleep she had that night was fitful. She couldn't get any real rest because she spent her time worrying instead. This wasn't what she was supposed to do. Maggie was the one who would sit in bed all day, the one who had internal conflicts that she couldn't seem to deal with. Abby was the strong one, the one who could sort through problems, and when she couldn't do that she could drown her problems in a beer or a couple glasses of wine.

  
Abby knew that with a child she couldn't drink…wouldn't drink…was that what she wanted? If she just got rid of the baby she could have a drink, and her problems would be solved. 

  
She threw the comforter off her body, stood almost shakily, and walked to the window. In movies it seemed that people could solve their problems by staring out the window, looking for the insight they needed. 

  
It didn't happen that way in real life.

  
What Abby saw was a courtyard, stories below her apartment. Dense fog rested heavily on the damp, green grass. In the center there were patches, and if she didn't look too closely the fog seemed to be the ghosts of small children playing in the park. Possibly her children. Either way they were condemned. Abortion, bi-polar disorder, it didn't matter. They were the ghosts of her children. 

  
Abby sighed, defeated, and closed the curtains. She couldn't afford to think like that. She touched her stomach, hoping the unborn child could give her insight, then turned back into the room to return to her bed.

Just at she turned she heard the sound of the locks being turned in the apartment, and the next thing she knew Richard came charging into the room, skidding to a halt in front of her. 

  
"Fine," he said.

  
"What?" she asked, suddenly very tired. He had probably drunk too much again, and she was in no mood to deal with him when he was like this. Standing there, with her arms folded across her chest, she looked more like an obstinate child, rather than an angry adult.

  
"Let's have a baby," he blurted out.

  
Abby frowned. This wasn't like getting a puppy. You can't change your mind 'just because', and they both knew that.

"Why?" she asked suspiciously. 

  
"Maybe it will help," he explained, then seeing her confusion he continued. "This is nuts, Abby. We act like idiots around each other. Maybe a baby will be the perfect thing for our marriage. You know, show us how to be adults." 

  
Abby almost smiled. The smarmy little man had a point. However, the thought of using a child like that seemed amoral, like they were doing it for the wrong reasons. She almost didn't care anymore. So many fights had resounded off the walls of their apartment; so many doors had been slammed; she was just too tired to fight him anymore. She wasn't going to run away from her problems with Richard. After all, they were nothing compared to the troubles she had encountered with Maggie, so she simply nodded.

  
"I'm going to bed," she told him, her face void of emotion. 

  
And they left it at that. No more running, no arguing. Just a simple statement and their problems were resolved…they were going to have a baby.

  
*****  
  
Carter collapsed onto the couch in the lounge. From the beginning of his shift to the end traumas had flowed in steadily, leaving him little time for a break, and now he felt downright sick.

  
Sliding his right hand into his pocket he fingered a small clay figurine which Grace, the child he had found in the medicine cabinet earlier in the week, had made and given it to him as a form of atonement. The figurine itself was of little importance at that moment; what *was* important was the small vial beneath it. He couldn't remember what it contained…Morphine, Fentanyl, Versed…it could be any of them. He didn't really care. He had just grabbed. It was a pain killer, a narcotic, and that was all he needed to know. Relief was literally at his fingertips and, given a free moment, he would once again feel the medicine coursing through his blood, alleviating his troubles. 

  
From the open window Carter could hear the sirens of another approaching ambulance. He figured more would follow, and rather than get caught up in the frenzy he slipped out of the ER unnoticed.   
The crisp Fall air was a refreshing contrast to the warm, stuffy ER, but he couldn't enjoy it; he had too much to think about.

  
He had finally acquired his long-awaited painkillers, but that horrible feeling about taking them had returned. He longed to feel happy again, to sleep undisturbed by nightmares and a horrible rerun of Valentine's Day, but at the same time he thought about his cousin and the countless patients he saw each day: AIDS from infected needles, children neglected because their parents where too drugged up to care, the many they found in the turkey files, feigning injuries just to get drugs, people shot because they had the drugs someone else wanted. 

  
He didn't want to become like that.

But there was no reason why he *should* become like that. He was a doctor, which meant no infected needles and no turkey files, he had no children, and he had no ties to any common street junkies. 

  
So why was this so difficult?

He knew all he had to do was fill the syringe, inject the medicine, and he would be fine. Maybe he only had to do it once. If he just felt that little bit of relief he could move on with his life, forget about drugs, perhaps even feel happy again…

  
His thoughts turned briefly to Grace. The impish little girl had no worries of her own. He wanted to be like that. To make a small clay person (was that what it was?) and not care that it wasn't perfect, not care that he was giving it to someone who would probably not care that he had it.

  
He suddenly felt sorry for Grace. He had let her down too. He didn't care about the figurine, he didn't care about the child…it was his job to care, but he didn't. 

  
Carter thrust his hand angrily into his pocket. He wanted to get rid of that little clay person, he didn't want a reminder that he had let yet another person down. Suddenly, he realized something was missing. He felt around his deep pocket…no syringe. In his rush, he had forgotten the syringe.

  
That settled nothing. He wanted the drugs therefore he needed the syringe. He turned in his tracks and began to trudge back to the hospital. Of course he could have waited, but he didn't want to. He didn't want to have second thoughts; he didn't want to worry about other people, about himself…about anything. 

  
Back at the hospital, there were people waiting in chairs, but no doctors or nurses that he could see. They were probably all with patients or in traumas. With no one around he could easily get a syringe and slip into an empty room. He couldn't wait to do it at home; he had to get the drugs fast. Hopefully he could slip out of the hospital before anybody noticed he was there, and if anyone saw him then he simply forgot to leave his stethoscope…

______________________________________________________

A/N

Yup, another one. As you have probably figured out by now (If you haven't, don't worry) this is an alternate universe kind of thing. Abby's parts are from the past, Carter's are around the time of season seven. Ok, quick vote: Would you guys really hate me if I kept going with the two separate time period thingys for a while? Not really long because then it would get redundant, but just a little longer. Hope you enjoyed it. Please R&R


	3. Insomnia

Author's Note: As usual, big thanks to all who have read and reviewed my stories, huge thanks to Em and Eve who checked over and edited this chapter for me. In case any of you are wondering, I did not fall off the face of the earth, I was in this school play and for an entire month, I almost literally ate, slept and breathed that play. Thankfully he only lets us rehearse for little over a month. I'll tell you, high school theater is brutal! I am sorry that it has taken so long for me to get this up, but on the bright side, it gave you all a chance to read fan fics that were actually worth reading! Chapter four is being edited right now, so I think I'll post it this weekend…possibly. As always, reviewing is wonderful. I would love to have anyone read and review. Please R&R it really does help to know that people like my story…or hate it. 

Oh, I don't own them, I need to start writing that, don't I?

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Chapter 3- Insomnia  
  
Abby threw off her covers. For three hours she had been trying to get to sleep, and for three hours she remained wide awake. Turning her head slightly to the left she noted that Richard was sleeping soundly beside her. 

Why didn't that surprise her? 

She hadn't expected him to be awake. After all, he wasn't the one with what could only be pregnancy-induced insomnia. That didn't mean that she couldn't be mad at him for being able to sleep though.  
  
"Richard," she whispered, poking his side. He didn't move. 

"Richard," she said again, this time a little louder and closer to his ear.  
  
"S'not time go 'way," he mumbled sleepily, turning onto his side so that his back faced her.  
  
"Richard!" she hissed.  
  
"What!?"   
  
"Can we go for a walk?" she asked. Odd as it may seem this was all she wanted. Most pregnant women craved pickles and ice cream, Abby wanted to take a walk with her husband.  
  
"Yeah, go ahead," he consented groggily, settling closer under the covers.  
  
"No, can *we* go for a walk? Both of us."  
  
Richard reluctantly opened his eyes and squinted at the clock. "It's 3 a.m. Abby! I'm on at nine," he moaned. "Can't you go for a walk in the morning?"  
  
"Fine, you go back to bed," she murmured grumpily. "I'll just go around the block a couple of times."  
  
"Have fun," he yawned, repositioning himself in the bed and pulling the covers over himself.  
  
Abby struggled to get up. Finally, in the right position, she placed her hands firmly on the bed and propelled herself upwards, ignoring the muffled protests from Richard. She threw on a pair of maternity pants and Richard's old college sweatshirt before tying her hair up in a rough ponytail and leaving the apartment, picking up her keys from the hall table as she went.   
  
Leaning against the closed door Abby surveyed the dimly lit corridor. As she expected at that time of the morning there was not a single person out in the hall. She made her way carefully to the elevator, but before she had a chance to push the button the doors swung open.  
  
"Sorry, Abby," her neighbor said politely as he narrowly avoided running into her. She looked at him and the group of his friends standing behind him, each holding a crate of beer in their arms. They appeared uneasy, as if they expected her to admonish them in some way. 

"What is this for? A frat party or something?" she joked, casting a longing glance at the bottles they held.  
  
"We figured we'd celebrate the first weekend of the last year of college," one of the boys explained sheepishly.  
  
Abby snorted. "Have fun…Just don't wake 'His Highness' in there," she warned. "He has an early shift in the morning." They all promised to keep the noise down as Abby stepped into the now empty elevator, but just as the doors were about to come her neighbor shot out his arm to keep the doors open, causing Abby to jump back in alarm. 

"Sorry Abby, I almost forgot. Some lady downstairs was asking for you. Said something about you being her daughter, but she looked a little crazy if you ask me."  
  
Abby barely had time to register what he was saying before the doors to the elevator started to close, cutting off her response. A thousand terrifying images flashed through her mind as the doors closed and the elevator descended.  
  
~~~~  
  
"…but I want to see my daughter! Where's Abby? I want to see Abby! Tell me where she is!"

Abby recognized the voice long before she saw its owner. Maggie was leaning over the front desk, dangerously close to toppling over. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn, but it was still Maggie.  
  
Abby hung back for a few more moments, contemplating turning back into the elevator and pretending she had never seen Maggie, but she knew that she couldn't do this. She took a deep breath then sighed, hanging her head as she walked slowly over to her mother.  
  
"I'm right here Maggie," she said, flashing an apologetic look at the flustered doorman.   
  
"Abby!" Maggie shouted excitedly as she pushed past the doorman and engulfed Abby in a hug that took her breath away. "I think you need to talk to your superintendent about this man here. He's not doing his job right! He told me you didn't live here but you do because you're here!" Maggie told her frantically.   
  
"He's just doing his job," Abby explained pointedly to her mother before turning to the doorman who was trying unsuccessfully to maintain his composure. She apologized profusely to him as she backed away out of the building, dragging Maggie behind her.

"What was his name? I want to launch a complaint agia-"  
  
Abby stopped abruptly in the middle of the street and whirled around to face her mother, cutting Maggie off before she started off on another rant. "Mom, what are you doing here?"   
  
"I wanted to see you," Maggie pouted. "You're my little girl. When Eric told me you were pregnant I was so happy! You know, your brother thinks-"   
  
"Stop it!" Abby shouted. Not even a minute into the visit and she was already wishing it were over. 

"Does Eric even know you're here?" she asked, exasperated.  
  
Maggie shrugged. "It's pretty hot out here. Let's go back inside." She turned to head for the doors but Abby held her back.  
  
"When you left, did you tell Eric that you were leaving?" Abby asked again.  
  
Maggie shifted uncomfortably, folded and unfolded her arms several times, then finally answered in the negative by lowering her eyes to the ground and shaking her head.

Abby closed her eyes and tilted her head back. Now she was tired. Maggie had an innate ability to make her feel tired when everything else was keeping her up.  
  
"You can't just leave without telling him…or turn up here without calling me for that matter," 

Maggie nodded quickly and looked suitably chastised. "I want to see the birth of my grandchild."  
  
"That…" Abby stopped. She didn't know how to answer. Of course it was sweet, maternal, whatever one might think, but it was also Maggie.   
  
"I have to call Eric," Abby sighed, suddenly noticing the thick August air had matted her hair against her face and neck in the short time they had been outside. She pushed her hair out of her face, grabbed Maggie's arm, and steered her back into the building and up to the apartment.   
  
~~~  
  
"What's Maggie doing here?" Richard asked groggily from behind a large cup of coffee.  
  
"She wanted to come for a visit. Her train got in at about six this morning," Abby lied.  
  
"Did you know she was coming?" he asked suspiciously.  
  
Abby nodded, shoving a piece of a banana and her mouth. Another lie. Did she ever know when Maggie was coming?  
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" Richard wondered, becoming irritable.  
  
Abby swallowed with difficulty as she was caught out in her lie. "Sorry. I figured you wouldn't mind," she said casually.  
  
"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows in question, waiting for her to explain further.  
  
"Do you want me to tell her to go?" *Stupid question, of course he does*  
  
Richard sat down at the table. "Is she taking her meds?"  
  
"She seemed pretty lucid earlier…"  
  
"The baby will be coming anytime. Do you really want to risk having it exposed to her," Richard said, trying his hardest to reason with her.  
  
"Yeah. It's just horrible exposing a child to their grandmother. What was I thinking?" she murmured to herself.   
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing," she said, standing up to drop her banana peel into the garbage. "Listen, I have to go to a meeting. Could you get my mom breakfast or something when she gets up?"  
  
Richard nodded begrudgingly, and with that Abby left him sitting there obviously sulking about his inability to control his wife-or her mother.  
  
~~~  
  
Abby looked around the packed room: not a single empty chair and the meeting hadn't even begun yet! People were milling about as they waited for the meeting to start, making the room feel hot and stuffy. Abby felt faint, but she knew if she sat on the floor she would never get up. She scanned the tops of people's heads once more, hoping to find a space somewhere, but she couldn't see anything. By that time the meeting had started so she walked to the back wall and leaned heavily against it. As the words of the meeting drifted past her she debated over her next course of action. Of course she could always leave…but that wasn't the best option. She could move to the front to talk since she was already standing…then again she could stand back and listen to the stories of hope… 

"…and that's why I'm here now, talking to you." The woman in the front finished speaking and stepped down as the polite applause rose around her. Without thinking Abby stepped forward and waited for the man at the podium to acknowledge her. He did so, and she started to speak.  
  
"My name is Abby…Abby Lockhart. I-uh-I've been sober for a little over nine months now." Abby was uncomfortable but she saw nothing but empathy from the crowd before her, encouraging her to continue with her story. "I had been on this cycle of drinking where I would stop and start again…a day, a week, sometimes even a month later. It didn't matter how long it was, I would always start drinking again eventually. Then, I found out I was pregnant…   
  
"I wanted a drink so badly at that moment…It's kind of funny: The one time I really needed a drink and I couldn't!" She gave a short laugh at her little joke before continuing. "It's been pretty hard. My husband wasn't supportive, but I didn't drink…and because of this baby I've been sober for nine months. Not one. And…Um, I guess that's all."  
  
Abby stepped down from the platform and walked quickly to the back of the room. Her face and body felt hot as she fell against the cool wall. She had shared way too much information, more than she had intended. Nothing she had said to them made any sense, but she had to admit it felt great saying those things out loud…  
  
***  
  
(Two weeks previously…) 

He couldn't sleep. 

He didn't want to sleep.

Too many nightmares…too many memories…  
  
Carter stood alone, staring across the large ornamented lawn. Beautiful trees and dark sculptures speckled the lawn, but they weren't very good companions. They gave no encouragement and the wind left no hope as it swept through the trees.   
  
*How very poetic* Carter thought bitterly. 

He took a quick draw on his half-finished cigarette and exhaled quietly. Suddenly a voice called out from behind him, waking Carter from his thoughts and causing him to turn around with a guilty expression on his face.  
  
"When did you start smoking?"  
  
He was caught. 

"Gamma?" He coughed. "I…I dunno. A while back, I guess," he murmured, at a loss for words.

"It's a bad habit, I should know." She paused as if uncertain whether to say what was on her mind or not, then decided to continue. "You don't seem very happy lately…Would you like to talk?"  
  
Carter said nothing. His cigarette fell from his parted fingers and lay forgotten on the dewy grass while they stood, not quite companionably and not quite uncomfortably in silence.  
  
"John, you need to move on. Just look at your parents. After your brother died…they never got over your brother's death …" she said simply. Again, he said nothing.  
  
"You should get some sleep," She said, shuffling back into the house, and leaving him alone once more.  
  
"Yeah, I should…" he told no one.  
  
He needed drugs.  
  
He had drugs.  
  
In the house, in the bathroom, in his cabinet there was Vicodin, or at least what was left of it after his stabbing…  
  
Careful not to wake anyone, Carter returned to the house, ran quietly up the stairs and entered his bathroom. He grabbed the bottle from the cabinet and grasped it tightly.  
  
Then, with shaky hands, he undid the lid. He didn't understand why he was so nervous. He had taken drugs before…he wasn't doing anything wrong…just finishing off the bottle of prescription drugs.   
  
No crime in following Doctor's orders he told himself as he swallowed the last pill in the bottle. 

_____________________________________________

If you have reached this point, then you have probably read my story. Now if you would be so kind as to review, maybe leave your email address and I'll send you a card or something. Just PLEASE review!


	4. Revelations

Author's notes: Hi, big thanks to all two of you who reviewed my last chapter! And everyone who reviewed the previous chapters. Thanks, as always to Em who went and made corrections. Not to mention the discussions about spelling and gestation periods for women. Ok, for all of you who are wondering, between the two of us, Em and I managed to get it pretty accurate. I checked the gestation period and it is 40 weeks for those of you who don't believe that's what it is. CoughEMCough. Just kidding.

Don't own 'em

Chapter 4-Revelations  
  
After 42 weeks of pregnancy and 3 weeks of her mother, it was now only a matter of hours until it was all over. Okay, so she wasn't in active labor, but with nearly two weeks past her due date at least she was finally in the hospital!   
  
"How about Jacob?" Richard asked, scanning the baby-naming book in his hand with a determined look on his face. He didn't like to leave anything to chance, and this baby was going to have a name before it came out if it killed him.  
  
"And if it's a girl?" Maggie asked from across the room.   
  
Richard laughed. "Who, may I ask, is the doctor here? I saw the ultrasound and **he** is definitely a boy."  
  
"Well, I still think it's a girl," Maggie told him defiantly.  
  
"Ok, I'll tell you what," Richard smiled pompously. "If I'm wrong, and I sincerely doubt it, but if I am and it turns out to be a girl then **you** can name her." 

  
Maggie murmured something inaudible causing Richard to look smugly at her, satisfied that he had won the argument, before returning his attention to the book.  
  
"Michael?" he suggested.  
  
Abby shook her head tiredly. "Everybody would call him 'Mike' or 'Mikey'…Maybe we could do this some other time. It's hot, I'm tired, an-"  
  
"Daniel!" Maggie offered suddenly, jumping up from her chair with excitement.  
  
"It's…nice. Can we keep it in mind, Richard?" Abby murmured, wanting to encourage her mother but realizing she was fighting a losing battle when Richard simply ignored her and countered Maggie with another suggestion. 

  
"Alexander?"  
  
"Adam," Maggie suggested.  
  
"Joseph," Richard challenged.  
  
Abby sighed. Even naming a baby had to become some horrible competition for her mother and husband. Why couldn't they just leave each other alone for two seconds?  
  
"You know for most people this would be a happy day," Abby said pointedly. "A day where families can come together to celebrate the birth of a new addition to the family...at least that's how it was for the people I used to see…"  
  
Richard paused, "It would be more enjoyable if the kid had a name."  
  
Before either of the two women could respond a nurse walked into the room and headed straight towards Abby's bed.  
  
"Hello Mrs. Lockhart. How are you today?" she asked, a little too perkily for Abby's liking.  
  
"Fine."  
  
"That's great! Ok, I'm just going to check to see how far you've dilated. The last nurse should have explained it, but if there are any other questions-"  
  
"Thank you, but I'm an O.B. nurse. I know what you're doing," Abby explained irritably. How old was this girl? She looked barely more than a child herself and Abby was supposed to entrust the birth of **her** child to her?  
  
"All the better then!" Nurse Perky smiled. After a short pause to check Abby's cervix she looked back at Abby with that eternal grin still plastered on her face. "Alright, you're dilated to four now so here's the big question: do you want an epidural?"  
  
Abby turned her head to the side to see that in the time she was talking to the nurse, Richard and Maggie had managed to become immersed in a heated discussion about something that was probably pretty petty.  
  
"Got anything stronger?" she asked dryly.

  
A puzzled smile crossed Nurse Perky's face as she tried to work out what Abby meant. Deciding that it was supposed to be a joke she smiled brightly and practically skipped towards the door. "Wonderful! The doctor will be in shortly, and if everything's in order you'll get your drugs!" With that she left the room, leaving three very tense adults in her wake.   
  
"Wonderful!" Maggie imitated, crossing her arms over her chest and rising from her chair. "I'm going for a walk."  
  
"Can you go with her?" Abby asked Richard tiredly, watching Maggie's retreating figure.  
  
"She'll be fine. Besides, we need to find a name," Richard said, not lifting his eyes from the baby naming book.  
  
Abby thought about pushing the point but realized that she just didn't have the energy anymore. Finally, in complete resignation, she closed her eyes and threw out a suggestion. "Hunter?"   
  
"I dunno. Hunter Lockhart? Sounds kinda…funny," he shrugged. "Maybe Cody or Matthew or something?"  
  
Abby sighed. Who really cared anyway? The idea that this child would bring them closer together had completely backfired. Richard and Maggie were at one another's throats constantly, and all Abby could think about was the possibility that the child could be bi-polar.  
  
"Are you sure it's a boy?" Abby asked suddenly. She wanted to fight, and if she was going to it might as well be about something they didn't have control over.  
  
"Yeah, didn't you look?"  
  
"Well, no. I wanted to be surprised…but that didn't happen did it?"  
  
"Yeah, because it makes you a better parent to be surprised," Richard retorted. 

  
Abby didn't have time to decipher the comment. O.B. walked in just as Richard finished his sentence.   
  
"Hello, Mrs. Lockhart, Dr. Lockhart," Dr. Morgan said, looking through her charts.  
  
"Hi," they murmured in unhappy unison.  
  
"Ready for the epidural, I see," she asked, a playful smile crossing her lips.  
  
Neither answered.

"Alright," she said, noting the coldness and turning to read the heart monitors. "Everything seems to be fine. Your…" she then stopped to look through her charts.   
  
"Son," Richard said shortly. "I checked myself," he added somewhat proudly.  
  
She closed her notes. "Thank you. I couldn't remember if it was son, daughter, or child," she laughed. "Alright, your son seems to be doing just fine. Dr. Jones will be in in about five minutes to give you the epidural."  
  
Saying this she gave Abby's hand a reassuring squeeze and turned on her heel to leave the room. As soon as she left the door opened again and the anesthesiologist walked in.  
  
"That was fast," Richard murmured, obviously impressed.  
  
Dr. Jones nodded, and quietly went about doing his job.   
  
"Ok, arch your back…Great. Mr. Lockhart, could you come here please? Ok, good…"  
  
Without another word the doctor inserted the needle into her spine. When she had seen it done on other patients this procedure had seemed to take only seconds, but as the pain shot through her back Abby could have sworn that it was closer to forever! 

  
When he was finished he gathered his equipment and left without so much as a smile or a 'good-luck'. Abby laughed inwardly. Maggie would like this guy; he isn't perky at all…  
  
Maggie. She had forgotten that Maggie had gone for a walk. She had been gone for at least a half hour, possibly longer, and as she realized this Abby began to worry.  
  
"Mom should be back by now…"she mused to Richard.  
  
"I'm sure she's fine," he said unconcernedly.  
  
"Can you go find her?"  
  
"Abby! She's a fully-grown woman! You don't need to take care of her." 

  
"Richard. Please!" Abby pleaded.   
  
Richard sighed heavily, pulled himself out of his chair, and stalked out of the room without saying another word or even looking at her.  
  
Abby lay back against the bed. Why did things always have to be such a drama? Why couldn't he just be a nice, helpful, loving husband? Why couldn't her mother be normal? Why couldn't **she** be normal? She couldn't think for long. Her contractions were becoming more frequent but somehow she didn't care that no one was in there with her.   
  
What surprised her most was the time factor. Everything seemed to be taking forever, but at the same time it was going so quickly. A nurse came to check on her, followed shortly by Richard and Maggie. Abby looked at the clock to find that it was half an hour since he had originally left to search for Maggie.  
  
"Do you know where she was?" Richard roared. He couldn't have seen the nurse or he wouldn't make a scene. 

  
"Dr. Lockhart, I don't think that this is the appropriate forum to vent your anger!" the nurse admonished.   
  
Richard glared at Maggie, who was now sitting beside Abby looking quite unhappy. Abby looked between the two and offered an apologetic look to the nurse before inquiring as to Maggie's whereabouts.  
  
"Down on the street! She was 'just having a drink' with some bum!" he said angrily. "I swear, we can't keep digging her out of problems. One of these days…"  
  
Shut up, shut up, shut up! Abby thought angrily. He didn't know how to handle Maggie…or Abby for that matter. And as for her? She couldn't handle Maggie and she couldn't handle Richard. Maybe they should all go to separate ends of the earth…

Maybe that wouldn't be far enough.

  
"I'm just being unreasonable", she said to herself, surprised by her own irrational thoughts.  
  
Again, the nurse left quickly, not wanting to be part of the conflict. Before going she informed Abby that in an hour she had gone from four to eight centimeters, and was now completely effaced. The only hope for the day was knowing that at least the birthing would be over soon, even if she still had to deal with Maggie and Richard.  
  
~~~  
  
"Ok, that's it. Give me another big push Abby," Dr. Morgan shouted encouragingly, watching intently for a head.  
  
"She's gonna be stubborn just like you!" Maggie exclaimed as she leaned over a nurse's shoulder in hopes of catching a glimpse of her grandchild.  
  
"He," Richard corrected absently. "3...2...1" he said, returning his attention to Abby.  
  
Abby relaxed against the pillow, breathing heavily, and waited for the next contraction.  
  
"Mom, do you want to wait outside?" she hinted, not wanting to spend the first moments with her child worrying about what her mother was going to do next.  
  
"Nah, I'm fine," Maggie said, oblivious. "What's this?" she asked, picking up the forceps on the table beside the bed.  
  
"Maggie, put that down!" Richard said quickly. 

  
"Ok, push," The doctor ordered.  
  
Abby complied.  
  
"Demanding aren't we?" Maggie said, obviously in a delayed reaction to the statement. "You know, the doc I had when Abby was born, he was a great guy. He wasn't demanding at all! You know, all doctors should be like him. Speaking of, can you tell me, why do doctors pu-"  
  
"The head's out. Don't push!" she said, pulling Maggie's ramblings to a temporary halt.  
  
Maggie leaned over his shoulder, now able to see the head as the doctor suctioned the nose and mouth.  
  
"Oh, if I had known I was doing this when I gave birth…" Maggie began, enthralled. "You should see her though, Abby. She's so beautiful. Granted I can only see her face…Oh and shoulders now…"  
  
Maggie narrated the doctor's actions as she maneuvered the baby out, but Abby didn't need to listen. She knew how doctors helped birth babies.   
  
"Dr. Lockhart, I think you need to go back to med school," Dr. Morgan announced with a laugh. "You have a little girl!"  
  
The baby didn't cry for a moment-a very long moment. The nurse in Abby knew there was nothing to worry about, but she still felt an incredible fear grip her chest up until she heard the baby's strong cries fill the room.  
  
"There we go," Dr. Morgan cooed as she weighed and measured the baby. She then wrapped her in a fuzzy yellow blanket and placed her on Abby's stomach. "Six pounds, three ounces and twenty inches long. She's a little one!" the doctor announced happily.  
  
The baby calmed down quickly. Abby touched the delicate features that made up her little girl's small face. She touched a finger to the soft baby skin and felt the soft down on her face. She took in every intricate detail about her little baby-the one who would depend on her for the rest of her life… 

  
Abby had never been so terrified in her entire life.  
  
"She is so beautiful," Maggie whispered reverently. "Can I hold her?"  
  
Abby looked wearily at her mother. "Maybe later." She knew her mother well, but not well enough to know which moods would come next in an "episode" when alcohol was involved. Of course, it didn't help that there was no logical order for the moods in an actual episode, let alone an alcohol-induced one.  
  
Maggie knew what Abby was thinking. "I was excited," she reasoned. "Everybody gets excited!"   
  
"Yeah, maybe later…"Abby said quietly.  
  
"Abby! I WAS EXCITED!" Maggie cried out in frustration.   
  
Startled, the baby began to cry. Maggie looked down at the baby. Then realizing she had made her cry began to cry as well out of absolute remorse. "Abby, I'm so sorry! Please don't hate me!" she wailed, looking through tear-filled eyes at her daughter.  
  
Maggie collapsed onto the bed beside Abby who quickly handed the screaming baby to Richard. Richard left quietly to bring the baby to the nursery.   
  
Despite the urging of every fiber in her entire body to push the woman away, to tell her to get out of their lives, Abby comforted her mother. She forgave Maggie as she always did, and as always Maggie swore that she would never screw her life up ever again as long as she had another chance. Abby listened with a sort of wall around herself. She listened, but she no longer believed.

  
"Mom," Abby said quietly when Maggie's cries had quieted. The doctor and nurses had left so she could talk to her mother in private  
  
Maggie wiped her eyes and looked closely at Abby, giving her her full attention. 

  
"What if I become bipolar?" Abby asked, suddenly unable to speak above a whisper.  
  
Maggie paused a moment, deep in thought, before looking Abby straight in the eye and replying. "It would have happened already, right? Abby, you can't live in what-ifs. It just doesn't work that way. You aren't bipolar, and if you are? Well…" She didn't finish. She knew a hundred ways to finish, but not a single thought was appropriate.   
  
That did nothing to lessen the worry Abby suddenly felt. If anything, she became even more worried, knowing that because of her, the child would have a horrible life. Maggie leaned over and brushed Abby's hair from her face.  
  
Abby swallowed hard. "What if the baby is bipolar?" 

The question was barely above a whisper, but she held some dignity in her tone. No one was going to see Abby Lockhart break down and cry, not even her mother.

  
Maggie shook her head. "I don't know. Whatever else happens you have a healthy baby, so don't ruin your enjoyment of her by worrying about that right now. She won't hurt you like I did…"   
  
"That's not what I'm talk-" Abby began. But Maggie stopped her.  
  
"Abby. You are a strong, strong person, and if your baby is half the person you are then she'll be just fine…EVEN if she is bipolar."  
  
Abby sighed. That wasn't the answer she wanted. Then again, she didn't know what answer she actually did want. She wanted affirmation that her baby would live like other children and, when she grew up, like other adults. She didn't want people to look at her kid and say 'poor sick little girl' or 'poor sick woman'. She didn't want the same situation Maggie had had. She didn't want Richard, or boyfriends, or anybody to leave her baby because of the disease…but could a sick woman give Abby the reassurance that nothing like that would ever happen?  
  
"This baby isn't me," Maggie assured Abby, as if reading her thoughts. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments until the peace was broken by Richard crashing through the door.  
  
"Abby, the baby's all settled down," he announced.  
  
Maggie shifted uncomfortably. "I know I upset her, but do I still get to name her?" Abby smiled. She looked so much like a child right then. Like the older sister rather than the grandmother.  
  
"Why would you get to name her?" Richard asked. "She's my daughter."  
  
"Because you said she could…" Abby reminded him. "You swore blind it was going to be a boy, and that if it was a girl Maggie could name her."  
  
"She was acting like a complete idiot through labor, then with the whole yelling thing, and she gets rewarded for it?"   
  
Abby didn't respond. There was no need.   
  
"Fine! Name the kid," he huffed, throwing himself into the nearest chair. "It's not like we had any girl's names picked out anyway."  
  
"You didn't have any boy's names either," Maggie told him, somewhat antagonistically.  
  
"Mom," Abby warned with a barely detectible smile playing on her lips.  
  
"So, do you even have a name picked?" Richard challenged.  
  
Maggie nodded. "What was the name of that one girl? I think she was your best friend in fifth grade. You know, the nice one…"  
  
Abby thought for a moment. "The one who loved sleeping over because it was always an adventure with you?"  
  
Richard sighed and simply glared at Maggie.  
  
"Yeah! What was her name?"  
  
"Grace," Abby said with a smile. Grace had been the only neighborhood kid who had never teased Abby about her "psycho mom", the only one who ever had the guts to stay over at the Wyczenski house.  
  
Maggie clapped her hands gleefully. "I'm going to go visit Grace!" She announced as she quickly left.  
  
"Why did you let her name the baby?" Richard asked immediately when the door had closed.  
  
Abby pulled her blanket up over her body. Despite the childbirth and August heat, she had become cold. "You said she could. Maybe that will teach you not to be cocky next time…" Yeah right, like there's ever going to be a next time.  
  
Richard obviously shared her sentiments. "Next time?" he laughed. "You actually want to have another one? Don't be stupid Abby. This one already has a great chance of becoming bipolar. Just think about the likelihood of two children. Either one or both!"  
  
Abby kept her mouth shut. She was too tired to yell, but the anger was building up inside of her.  
  
"Abby, why did you have this baby anyway?" He sounded surprised by his own question, but still found himself waiting for an answer. When none was forthcoming he threw his hands up in the air and laughed coldly. "You're absolutely incredible, you know that! You've got your mother to take care of, and now you want to risk taking care of your bipolar child too? Do you like feeling miserable? Do you like knowing that you're ruining your marriage because of this bipolar crap?" Richard stopped. He had gone way too far. Even if he had meant it, the best time to talk to someone about it was not after giving birth.  
  
Abby felt like crying…She laughed instead. "You know, I really do, Richard. I like feeling miserable! I like making everyone around me miserable! I like knowing that our marriage sucks because I try to help my mom!"

She was only whispering, but in her own ears she seemed to be yelling every word and the whole hospital now knew that their marriage was falling apart. They hadn't worked at keeping their marriage together; what they had worked at was hiding the fact that their marriage was falling apart before them and there was nothing they could do about it.   
  
"You couldn't have waited until we were at home, huh?" she asked. To her surprise she was crying, although barely perceptibly, and the look on Richard's face showed that he didn't know what to do in this unknown situation. "You know, I don't need your help, Richard. You obviously don't want to be bothered with a child that is less than perfect so I'll have to do it alone. I can raise a kid on my own. If I took care my mother and raised my brother I can take care of a little baby." 

Her façade had once again fallen over her. Her tears were nonexistent, and now she showed only the self-sufficient, self-assured person Richard had always known. To the world Abigail Lockhart was strong and able to take on anything. To Abby she was a weak person who had just gone too far. She couldn't do it all anymore. She couldn't take care of a baby and pay his way through med school, couldn't take care of her mother, couldn't fix her relationship with Richard…and couldn't pretend to love him anymore.  
  
Richard didn't know what to say. He had gotten to the point where he didn't care anymore. Maggie drove him crazy, and he never understood why Abby always ran back to her. Along with that, Abby was a walking enigma. He never had figured her out. While that had attracted him to her years ago he couldn't handle it anymore. So he did something both he and Abby had become good at…he ran away. 

  
"Alright then," he whispered. "You deal with your bipolar mother and your newborn baby. I'm done Abby. You aren't my responsibility anymore."  
  
He left too soon for Abby to mention that she had never been his responsibility. Oddly Abby didn't feel sad. If anything she felt relieved…until she realized that she didn't have anywhere to live.  
  
"Aren't I going home with Richard?" Maggie asked, popping her head inside the door to Abby's room.  
  
Abby shook her head. "Nope. You're going to want to head back to Florida soon." This was all she could think of to say. Her brain seemed incapable of forming a proper thought after all she had been through in the last 24 hours.  
  
Maggie shrugged. "I suppose. He was driving me nuts anyway. Listen, they let me bring the baby back here. Do you want to see her again…I think she's hungry."  
  
Before Abby could answer, Maggie wheeled the basinet into the room. Then she carefully picked up her granddaughter and handed her to Abby.  
  
Looking at the tiny face of the baby nestled in her arms, Abby couldn't help but wonder if she had done the right thing. Probably not, she told herself, but she was too proud to crawl back to Richard.   
  
"Do you think we can manage?" Abby asked the baby.  
  
Grace cooed a happy reply, and for the hundredth time since the child had been born, Abby's heart melted. Each time Grace did something, anything; Abby couldn't imagine what would have happened had she had an abortion. Richard didn't know what he would be missing out on with this baby. But…  
  
They would manage just fine on their own.

_______________________________

Ok, it was long, I realize that. Next chapter will be getting back to Carter, so just stay with me here. It was eight pages on it's own, so I figured I would just not have Carter's part this time. I really hope you guys liked it. Please tell me what you thought about it. I would really like to make improvements for next time. 


	5. Falling from Grace

I know it's taken a long time. Em had this to me a while back, but I haven't been home all week. We are finally getting to some Carby stuff here. I know, it took five stinking chapters, but it's here now. Before I get into the story, there are some things I would like to explain. 1.) Grace's name-For those of you who are wondering, I don't think that it's a name Abby would ever give her kid. I don't remember how I got it but it was one of two ways: Either closing my eyes, opening the baby naming book, and using the first name my finger lands on or for some reason I thought it was a good idea and there were lots of puns and things I could do with the name. I'm going to go with the first one because I'm just too tired to remember right now…2.) Abby's behavior in the chapter-I have never seen Abby as a mom. I remember how she acted with Douglas, but I used my aunt. Sometimes I swear my aunt is Abby. They are almost exactly the same (Save facial features, alcoholism and a bipolar mother…Then again, Grandma has been acting odd…) So, as I told Em: If you don't like the way she's acting as a mom, blame my aunt. 

Thanks to Em and all of those people who read the story even if you didn't review.

I don't own them.

Chapter 5-Falling from Grace  
  
(Previously on ER: Carter found his path crossing with an anonymous little girl in the ER on several occasions. Later he stole a vial of Morphine from the drugs lockup and was debating whether to take the drug or not. )

"John, are you alright?" Millicent Carter walked into her kitchen to find her grandson standing at the counter drinking a cup of coffee. Since he had returned to work his behavior had been erratic; he never seemed to sleep anymore and he was often distant, but today he appeared to be more cheerful, more like his old self. She didn't want to worry but her concern was evident as she asked after him. 

  
"I'm fine, Gamma," Carter replied.  
  
"How are you feeling?" she asked, sitting down at the table and giving him her full attention.  
  
"Never been better," he replied, as surprised by his response as she was.  
  
She took a moment to consider her words. "Wonderful," she said finally. Her worry was not abated but she was prepared to take his words at face value.  
  
"Yup!" Carter set a plate of toast before her, kissed her forehead, and left her alone in the kitchen.  
  
He didn't need drugs.  
  
Not to get through his day, or his night, not to feel better.

Not for anything.

Thoughts like this, good thoughts, seemed to be coming more and more frequently. If he were in fact better he wouldn't have to worry about wanting to ease his pain because he wouldn't have any pain to ease…He must be better.  
  
He certainly felt better. 

  
He had the drugs, he had the syringe, but he wasn't going to use them. He didn't have time to take them the previous night but now he didn't feel the desire. He suddenly felt as though he already had taken them.   
  
Having completed his morning tasks and rituals long before even his grandmother had gotten up, Carter was all set at only seven in the morning. Grabbing his jacket from the hall closet and shouting a good-bye to his Grandmother he opened the main door and left his house.   
  
He didn't know where he was going.   
  
He didn't care.   
  
For the first time in what seemed like forever he felt he could enjoy life again, or at least attempt to. Nothing was going to ruin that, not even the details of his early morning walk. He had transferred the vial from his pants to his coat and fingered it occasionally, but he didn't feel any need. He felt almost invincible. If he could have a bottle of drugs that close to his person and not once consider using it, surely he would be fine?   
  
"Hey, Carter!"  
  
A voice interrupted his thoughts, causing Carter to look up. He knew he should be surprised that he ended up at the hospital even though he hadn't intended on going there, but he wasn't.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Are you working today?" Dave asked when Carter was at a distance where he no longer had to yell.  
  
Carter shook his head. "I'm off until Friday."  
  
"Why are you here then?"  
  
Carter shrugged. He never knew why his walks always seemed to lead him to the hospital. He didn't have anything there that he really cared about. He had friends who treated him like porcelain because they were afraid to hurt him. He had patients who treated him like some idiot doctor but still came with their problems. The hospital **did** have medical supplies and medications, but he didn't need either of those.

At least he didn't need either of those _anymore_.  
  
He wasn't sick.  
  
He certainly wasn't addicted to drugs. He could be sure of that now. Now that he wasn't even thinking about them.  
  
With the exception of thinking about not thinking about them…   
  
"Hey Carter?" Dave said irritably. "You're kinda spacing. I think you should go back home before Weaver sucks you back into hell."  
  
"I've already been there," Carter said, more to himself than anything. Dave gave a little laugh, slightly confused by Carter's tone, but he quickly brushed off the feeling.  
  
"Whatever you say. Weaver's on the warpath so I'd run if I were you before…"  
  
"Dr. Carter! We're short on doctors. Would you care to fill in? I hope so. It's in your job description."  
  
Dave smirked.  
  
So Carter filled in…not that he minded, as he felt wonderful. He was very energized and ready for anything. Not at all the depressed shell of a man he had been the just the night before.  
  
~~~   
  
Towards the end of the shift, Carter no longer felt energized. He had a dull ache in the small of his back, and a need for something.  
  
He didn't need drugs.  
  
But he suddenly wanted them again.  
  
His resolve completely diminished in the two seconds it took him to realize that. He stalked into the break room to fish it out of his coat pocket. It was getting dark outside, and the break room was dark save two lamps. All of the personnel on duty were either attending to patients or sitting at the admit desk, so he was almost certain of having the room to himself. All he had to do was get to his locker…  
  
"I know you!" Small feet ran over his shoes, and the small voice they belonged to interrupted his thoughts.  
  
Grace.

That child always showed up at the most inopportune times!  
  
"You shouldn't be in here," he told her as he spun the combination and opened his locker. "You're going to get in trouble."  
  
"Nuh-uh! I'm allowed to be down here today," she told him, a proud smile crossing her lips. "Mommy's working late tonight so she let me come and say good night," she explained.  
  
"Then why are you in here?" he asked inquisitively, his curiosity piqued as to who this mystery "Mommy" could be.   
  
"Mommy told me to. She had a patient to see first."  
  
"She left you alone?"  
  
"No, the babysitter did. She went to get coffee."  
  
"How long have you been in here?"  
  
"Not long. Why?"  
  
Carter fished frantically for the vial and syringe. He should probably wait until the mom came, but he didn't want to.   
  
"I need to…take my medicine," he announced, locating the vial and pulling it triumphantly from the pocket.  
  
"OK."  
  
Carter inserted the syringe into the top of the bottle and drew just a small amount of the drug from the vial, 10cc's at most. Grace watched him wide-eyed.  
  
"What's that?" she asked.  
  
"My medicine," he explained patiently.  
  
"What's it for?"  
  
Carter rolled his eyes. "I need it," he replied quickly, becoming slightly annoyed at this little girl's questions.  
  
"Are you sick?"  
  
Carter shook his head, his hands shaking as he tried to let any air out of the syringe.  
  
"Then why do you need it?"  
  
"Because!" He hadn't yelled it, but it was an exasperated cry and the once inquisitive child now sunk back.  
  
"I'm sorry. Listen, I…um, get really grumpy without it. I'll be better in a minute," he explained. 

He suddenly felt really guilty. Not only was he shooting up in front of a child, but a child he was lying to and had just "yelled" at.  
  
"It's ok," Grace nodded and smiled. "Mommy says good people have bad days too."   
  
Carter held the needle to his wrist, intending to insert it just under the wristband of his watch. 

He was so close.

The needle was pressing his tender flesh, fighting to reach his vein.  
  
Grace was watching.  
  
Damn her.  
  
The door opened suddenly and closed just as quickly.  
  
"Mommy?"  
  
Carter didn't even see who had opened the door, but he was sure they had seen him. In defeat he pulled the needle away from his skin leaving a small indent on his wrist, but he hadn't broken skin. He quickly disposed of the needle and vial before anyone else had a chance to walk in.  
  
He couldn't have done it in front of a kid anyway…  
  
"Was that my mom?"  
  
Carter shrugged indifferently. "I have to get back to work." He walked quickly out of the break room, not giving himself a chance to think about what he had almost done, about how wrong it was, or about how right it would have been…  
  
"Dr. Carter?"  
  
Carter turned in the direction of the voice.  
  
"Could I go on break right now? I have to do something…"  
  
"Sure," he said dismissively, waving his hand to show they could leave. "Where's Dave?"  
  
Abby shrugged. "He had to leave."  
  
"Oh." It wasn't that he really cared anyway. Just one of those habitually asked things when dealing with med students.  
  
*****  
  
Abby rushed into the break room.  
  
"Grace, I'm sorry honey! There was a big accident…Where's Megan?"  
  
"She went to get coffee, I think…but that nice doctor I was telling you about was in here and he talked to me."  
  
Abby nodded dismissively. "How was your day?"  
  
"Fine. My teacher wants to talk to you."  
  
"Why?"   
  
"Dunno," She said I didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"Yeah, she just said that she needed to talk to you," Megan explained, returning to the room just in time to hear Grace's last statement.  
  
"I know you didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," Abby said softly as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. "Have you been good then?"  
  
Grace nodded.  
  
"Did you practice?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Have you been listening to Megan?"  
  
Grace looked unsurely over at Megan who gave a slight nod, and Grace in turn nodded to her mother.  
  
"Good, now for some fun stuff! Did you pick a book?"  
  
"Yup!" Grace pulled a book from the chair she was keeping her things on and turned to her mother excitedly. "I brought Fairy Tales, and you can read one and I can read one!"  
  
"Alright, but they have to be short though. It's getting late and I have to work."  
  
"Okay. You start."  
  
So Abby read a story and Grace read a story, then Abby proceeded to rush both Grace and Megan out the door. "I'm sorry," she apologized, "I have to get back to work before Dr. Weaver comes and yells at me. Goodnight Grace," she said, kneeling down to kiss her daughter and pull her into a fast hug. "I Love you."   
  
"'Night Mommy. Love you too"  
  
"I'll see you later."  
  
"Bye."  
  
Grace and Megan left quickly, leaving Abby standing alone in the lounge. She would never follow them, as the nurses were gossips and the doctors believed in commitment to, and only to the hospital. She didn't want to know what they would say about her if they knew she had a child.  
  
Instead Abby walked tentatively to the hazardous waste container on the wall. She had never figured out why there was one in there, but she never questioned it.   
  
It was a compulsion. She shouldn't have cared, but she looked anyway. In the hazardous wastes container she found only the nearly full vial and the remainder in the syringe beside it. She sighed inwardly.

Thank God. 

That meant that Carter hadn't done anything…  
  
He could have though.  
  
  
*****  
  
Carter walked home in the dark. He had gotten himself into every situation he had been in that day. Had he taken a drive he wouldn't be walking to the El. Had he not gone for a walk he wouldn't have ended up at the ER. Had he tried harder not to think about drugs he wouldn't have almost have injected himself in front of a child.   
  
He couldn't really say that any of those 'had nots' would have mattered anyway. He was miserable from the start…well, maybe not at the start of the day, but he knew that what he had done that day wouldn't have made much of a difference had he gone elsewhere.  
  
When he reached the station, he took his ticket and went to the platform to wait for the El. He could see only one other person waiting for the El, shivering for lack of warmer clothing.  
  
"What kind of med student stands outside in that kind of clothing when it's this cold?" He hadn't meant for it to sound funny, but Abby laughed anyway.  
  
"I left it on the El this morning," she explained.  
  
"Oh," Carter laughed too. "Do you want mine?"  
  
"No, thank you," her expression changed quickly. She was suddenly quite serious. "How are things going?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…"  
  
"I don't even know what you're talking about," Carter laughed uncomfortably.   
  
"Since Valentines day…." She seemed to be waiting for him to lash out or something because she sunk back, but still stood confidently before him.  
  
He plastered a smile onto his face, the same smile he had used on every other person who had ever asked him. "Just fine. I'm doing so much better."  
  
"Oh." She paused for a moment to consider her words. "I saw you take Morphine from the drugs lockup yesterday…and you almost used it today," she told him. Sometimes being blunt was the best way to go…but perhaps not this time.  
  
"Yes, for a patient, and no, I did not," Carter said defensively.  
  
"Dr. Carter?"  
  
He kept his voice level. He wasn't going to let her see that she was right. "I didn't take any narcotics. At least not for myself."  
  
Abby didn't reply. There was no use arguing with him.  
  
"I have to go," he told her has the El came lurching to a stop on the tracks before them. "I'm not addicted to anything so don't worry about it," he added as he stepped off the platform and into the El.  
  
Abby followed him on but made sure not to talk to him. If he wanted to talk he would. She didn't want to rock the boat by trying to pry it out of him.  
  
Before she knew it Abby had arrived at her stop, and as she got up to leave she glanced over at Carter. He was looking out of the window, as he had been when she got on. "Good night, Dr. Carter," she said, walking off the El and into the night. Thankfully her apartment was very close to the station so she was home in a matter of minutes.  
  
"Why is she sleeping on the couch?" Abby asked when she arrived at home to find her daughter curled up on the couch, surrounded by stuffed animals and covered by blankets.  
  
Megan sighed. "She insisted on staying awake until you got home. I told her that she could stay up as long as she pretended to sleep."  
  
Abby smiled. "And she insisted on doing all of this in the living room?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
"Strange child…Do I pay you tonight or Friday?"  
  
"Friday."   
  
"Alright. I'll see you then."  
  
Megan left quickly, and Abby knelt down beside the couch and stroked Grace's face.  
  
"Hey you, I'm home," she said when Grace's eyes fluttered open.   
  
"Hi," Grace responded sleepily.   
  
Abby picked her up, blankets animals and all, and started to head towards the bedroom. "Are you ready for bed now?"  
  
Grace nodded and rested her head on her mother's shoulder. "Can I sleep with you?"  
  
"Sure."

Abby changed direction and went into her own room. She tucked Grace into bed and climbed in next to her, not bothering to change as she was too tired…still, at least she had tomorrow off!  
  
"I love you, Mommy," Grace murmured sleepily.  
  
"Love you too," Abby said quietly.  
  
*****  
  
It wasn't worth it.  
  
Any of it.  
  
He had exposed a child to drugs; he had lied to himself as well as others about what was going on; hell, he had probably jeopardized his career as a doctor!

Not that he was acting much like a doctor anymore. He didn't care about his patients; he didn't care about helping them…he just didn't care about people. He cared only for drugs. He couldn't live like that anymore.  
  
He didn't have to live either. He was a doctor. He knew the easiest ways to kill himself…

But did he really want to be dead?   
  
No.  
  
He just didn't want to feel like he felt at that very moment. Sure, he had times when he felt great, but he always returned to the same feeling eventually.

  
He hated that feeling.   
  
Before Paul Sobricki had stabbed him, before he had killed Lucy, Carter's life was fine. He had been a doctor, a good doctor. He didn't have to be in pain, but he didn't have to take drugs either. He could do so many things to change himself, but it would be so hard…  
  
He had to do it, though, and that night he knew why. He knew it was because he had become a person he didn't like, and suddenly he felt that he had to do it to show Grace that he could do something right, that he could care. She would probably never know, but he had to do it for her anyway. He had to show her that he could be a good person.   
  
He went to bed that night and he slept. He pushed drugs out of his mind. He filled it with the resolve of earlier that day, but this time it was real. It wasn't because he was feeling happy or elated as he had been earlier that morning, as he most certainly wasn't either. 

It was because he finally knew what he wanted.

He knew he would never stop thinking about drugs, but he had decided that he would never take them. He wasn't going to go to NA or AA, but he was addicted. He was addicted and alone, but he was also a doctor. He would get through it. 

He wouldn't kill himself, and he most certainly would not take drugs.


	6. No Turning Back

Author's Note: Hi, I know it's been a loooong time, and I'm sorry. I've actually had this chapter for a few months (and betaed for at least a month…) I was trying to finish chapter 7 before posting this one so it wouldn't be such a long wait between six and seven, but I have this severe case of writer's block (at least for this story) so I began a different story which will be up shortly. I hope you aren't mad that it's been ages . As always, huge thanks to Em who has been incredibly busy, but took the time to beta anyway. Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed (or just read). I'm hoping that it starts to pick up around chapter seven…hopefully. Please tell me what you think of this, especially things I can improve upon!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own Carter or Abby. I do own Grace, Aurora, and Atlantis, but they're a little malnourished so TPTB is considering taking those from me…

Chapter 6-A No turning back  
  
"No school?"  
  
" Nope."  
  
" No work?"  
  
" Nope."  
  
" Can we go to the wooden park?"  
  
Abby looked up from her cereal bowl to see Grace looking expectantly at her, even though she knew what the answer would be.  
  
" No."  
  
"What?" Grace sat on her knees and leaned over the table. Her small fingers pressed her mother's chin in an attempt to make the 'no' become a 'yes'.  
  
" Of course we can!" Abby said, unable to keep up the teasing of her daughter. "I'm going to watch Aurora and her sisters today, so we can all go."  
  
" Really?" Grace's eyes lit up. "When are they coming?"  
  
Before Abby could answer there was a knock at the door.  
  
" Now," she said, putting down her spoon and rising from the table to open the door.   
  
" I'll get it!" Grace cried, jumping from her chair and running to the door before Abby knew what was happening. She threw it open and greeted her friends excitedly: "Hi hi!"  
  
Abby quickly cleared the table, knowing that everyone would want to leave as soon as possible. As she was finishing the kids walked into the kitchen, enabling Abby to catch their conversation.  
  
" We're gonna go to the park!" Grace was saying excitedly.  
  
" The wooden one?" Atlantis, Aurora's sister asked.

" Yup!"  
  
Abby watched the children talk animatedly about the park. It amazed her that as a child anything and everything would excite and amaze them; as a child she had been a miserable person trying to save her mother. As an adult, she had been a miserable woman in a miserable marriage until she got out of that and became a slightly less miserable woman trying desperately to finish med school, work to pay for it, and take care of and pay for her daughter's needs.   
  
She was glad that she could give her daughter a childhood, and especially glad when she was able to spend time with her daughter. Today would be that kind of day.  
  
~~~  
  
"Mommy, can we run over there? It isn't that far away now," Grace reasoned as they neared the park. The faster they could get to their wooded haven the better!   
  
Abby nodded. "Okay, but be careful!"  
  
They ran as fast as they could towards the park while Abby walked leisurely behind them. Not many people were at the park that day, and she had to admit she was surprised. A day off from school would usually have seen all of the elementary kids playing at the park, but today she saw only the kids she brought with her, an elderly couple walking beside the river…and a very familiar face.   
  
" Dr. Carter?" Abby asked uncertainly as she approached the bench where Carter was sitting.  
  
He looked up in surprise. "I-I didn't expect to see you here…" 

This was certainly the truth. The only reason he ever came to the park was to get away from his colleagues at County who either didn't have kids or whose kids were too old for the park. He saw them every other place he ever went, and had discovered that if he wanted to avoid them and their questions he should go somewhere they weren't. The park.  
  
" Oh." She hadn't exactly expected to see him either, but what else could she say?   
  
Abby sat down beside Carter. She knew he probably didn't want her to but the park only had one good bench. The rest had been either broken or stolen.  


"Are those your kids?" Carter asked uncomfortably, breaking the awkward silence.  
  
" No, no, no!" she explained quickly. "I'm just helping my neighbor out."  
  
He watched her for a moment as she looked over at the kids and debated whether to say what was on his mind. She was the only one who knew or even suspected that he had had a drug problem, so he should probably tell her that he was working on getting it under control. He really should.   
  
But it was so much easier to stall.

"A lot of kids…" he observed.  
  
" Yeah."  
  
" Abby, I have a confession to make." What was he doing? He didn't know, but he couldn't stop. His mouth wouldn't let him. "I did steal morphine. I was going to take it, but I didn't…"  
  
Did he just say that? Had he lost his mind? He was telling a med student something he had vowed never to tell anyone.  
  
Abby nodded in understanding.  
  
" I didn't take it," he reiterated. "I was going to, but I didn't."   
  
"Why didn't you?" Abby asked quietly.  
  
Carter furrowed his brow. Why hadn't he? Because it was the right thing to do?   
  
Hardly.  
  
" I don't know," he admitted. "I wasn't myself. I didn't care about anything or anyone. There was this kid…she was so smart, and so sweet, but I was angry with her for absolutely no reason at all. I hated her and I didn't know why." He stopped briefly as he tried to think what he was trying to say. Abby just sat quietly as she took all this in, silently encouraging him to continue. "She said that I was a good person but I couldn't think why, because I wasn't. It was really stupid because she was some kid I'd only seen a few times and would probably never see again, but I had to prove it to her, prove that I **could** be a good person." Carter laughed to himself. Not only was he rambling and telling Abby more than she would ever want to know, but he was trying to explain something to her that he found absolutely bizarre himself. "I'm sure you don't understand…"  
  
"Oh, I most certainly do," she said before she could stop herself. It just slipped out, but she resisted the urge to cover her mouth. She needed to get a grip; she couldn't just go around telling people, especially not her superiors, that she had had a drinking problem.  
  
Carter gave her a skeptical look. "You've experienced it or you've seen it?"  
  
She could tell him a lie, she could say that she knew someone who tried that…but the truth was always better though. Always better.  
  
She swallowed hard and looked intently at her shoe. "I…I know what it's like. I-I was an alcoholic."  
  
Carter nodded, urging her to continue.  
  
" The first time I tried to stop was on my own. I had this plan…I um, I lasted for maybe a week before I started drinking again. Then, I went to AA."  
  
What an incredibly stupid mistake! Now he knew. Her job was done for. Why did she have to feel like it was her place to help him? He studied her intently and she couldn't tell whether he was going to laugh, sympathize or tell her that her position at County would be terminated.   
  
" Oh" was all he could muster.  
  
They had shared so much with each other, more than any other teacher and student ever could, but they couldn't stop. They both needed to talk…for each other and for themselves.  
  
" How long have you been sober?" he asked.  
  
" About six years." 

Abby played with the zipper of her jacket and stared hard at the kids playing in the park. She prayed that he wouldn't figure out that one of them was hers. In spite of what they had just shared she didn't want to have to explain her entire life to him.  
  
" Was it hard?"  
  
" Very…" Abby sighed.  
  
" What made you finally stop?"  
  
As if on cue Grace rushed up to them shouting as loudly as she possibly could.  
  
" Mommy, look what I found-Oh, it's that nice doctor, hello!" She said in one breath, as quickly as possible.  
  
Abby froze, it was bad enough that she had told him that she had a drinking problem, now he would surely think she was incapable of anything. She stole a glance at Carter to find him looking expectantly at her. She shook herself from the daze and looked at Grace, fixing a smile on her face. "What do you have?"  
  
" A caterpillar!" She cried excitedly. "He was in the sand. Isn't that sad?" She added, holding out her small palm so Abby and Carter could see the fuzzy caterpillar resting on her skin.  
  
Abby nodded. "You should go find a home for him, huh?"  
  
" Yup! Wanna help?" She asked looking from her mom to Carter.  
  
" We'll pass just this time," Abby laughed, smoothing her daughter's hair down. "Have Aurora and her sisters help."  
  
Once again Grace bounded off, shouting all the way. Carter looked at Abby stunned.  
  
" That's why," she told him timidly in answer to his last question.  
  
" That's generally a good reason…" he replied slowly. What else could he say?  
  
Abby nodded.  
  
" She's defiant."  
  
" Yup."  
  
" So, what's your story? You know mine…"  
  
Abby smiled slightly. So now he was interested? Add a kid and you get automatic interest. "It's really not that interesting. I'm an alcoholic." And I have a kid. I'm incapable. Just fire me now, don't patronize me.   
  
" Sounds like you're saying that one day you woke up and became an alcoholic," Carter mused. "What happened?"  
  
" Too much…between my mother and myself and my husband, I just couldn't handle it anymore."  
  
" Really?"  
  
" I don't know that I want to get into it…besides, we should be talking about you," she insisted.  
  
" No one said that. Just tell me, was it hard? I mean, was it really hard to quit?" He looked at her genuinely and expectantly. He expected the entire truth from her, and for some reason he knew he would get it.  
  
Abby sighed in resignation. "Very. When I quit, I had some troubles with my husband, and he wasn't exactly supportive of anything."  
  
Carter let out a short breath. "And you still haven't had a drop to drink for six years?"  
  
" Nope. You should consider coming to a meeting." Good, switch the focus back to him…it makes things easier.  
  
" I think I can handle it alone."  
  
Abby turned to face him. He could see so many emotions on her face at that very moment, the most prominent of which seemed to be fear.  
  
" Alone?" she repeated.  
  
He shifted, suddenly quite uncomfortable. "Yeah, I'll be fine."  
  
" Dr. Carter, I really don't think that's a good idea…"  
  
"I can handle it. Seriously."  
  
" Like you did the drugs?"  
  
She had a point. "That's different…" he said quickly.  
  
" No, Dr. Carter. You really do need this. I can tell you from experience." She told him forcedly.  
  
She looked even more frightened than she had to begin with. Obviously she thought it was very important. That sort of thinking on her part took him by surprise. He thought about Abby's story. He realized that she was a strong person, and that everything she had gone through had made her stronger. 

That was what he wanted, to be strong, but even Abby admitted that she couldn't survive without AA.  
  
That scared him.

Talking to Abby and getting to know her, he discovered things he had never realized. Before he had only regarded her as a med student and not an actual person. He didn't want to think that he couldn't survive on his own, but listening to her he knew he couldn't.  
  
" Would I really be considered addicted?" He asked, unable to think of an argument.  
  
Abby nodded.  
  
" Why would you care what happened to me?"  
  
" I don't know."  
  
" What would you do if I didn't go?" he challenged.  
  
" There really wouldn't be anything I could do. I want you to go for you, not because there's something in it for you or because someone asks you to. Just go because you don't want to be the person you are on drugs."  
  
Finally, he nodded in agreement. "I'll go…but will you come with me?" 

  
Abby smiled. "How 'bout Friday night?"  
  
" What time?"  
  
" Seven. Is that a good time for you?"  
  
There was no turning back now…  
  
"Should be. Now this will really help?" He felt odd asking a med student for reassurance, then he realized for the second time that day that Abby was no longer a med student. She was a person, and his friend. 


End file.
